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“We need to move in for a closer look.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Devlin said, peeling himself off the rock face.
I held back a gasp of surprise. “That’s a neat trick.”
“Yes,” replied the god.
“Is your team here too?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t hate the answer. I’d worked with Devlin’s team, and I actually liked them. I didn’t want them to be dead. Even though they were gods, they were the down-to-earth sort.
“We’re here,” Arabelle declared as she and four others emerged from the stone. Their camouflaging skills were perfect.
Theon was there. And Octavian too; he winked at me. And then there were Patch and Punch, the colossal twins.
I exchanged glances with Stash. “So you’re the soldiers Faris sent us to rescue?”
“Rescue?” Octavian said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Like we need to be rescued.”
I didn’t point out that blood was oozing down his face. Or that one of Arabelle’s eyes was swollen shut. I didn’t mention Devlin’s arm, hanging limply at his side. And it was pretty obvious to everyone with eyes that Patch was leaning against Punch like he was about to pass out.
“What happened?” I asked them. “Who are those guys in black?”
“Bastards,” Punch spat, and blood stained his lips. “They came out of nowhere, wielding weapons forged in hell itself. Weapons that can kill a god.”
“These weapons, they wouldn’t happen to be batons?” I asked.
“Yes.” Octavian tried to use the back of his hand to wipe away the blood on his face, but it just smeared everywhere. “How did you know?”
“I’ve encountered those batons before.”
“Those batons killed three of our own.” Arabelle’s hands balled into tight fists. “The demons will pay for this.”
“Those soldiers are demons?” I said in surprise.
“Of course.” Theon frowned. “What else would they be?”
“Never mind.” If I told Faris’s soldiers that humans could also wield the god-killing batons, he’d probably feed me to his pet dragons. I bet Faris had at least a dozen pet dragons. “Do you know which demon these soldiers belong to?”
“No,” replied Devlin. “Their uniforms bear no indication of rank or affiliation.”
“But they are definitely demons,” Octavian said. “They used dark magic.”
“With or without the batons?” I asked.
“Both,” Arabelle said, stroking her swollen eye.
“It was powerful dark magic,” Patch added.
“Like demon-level dark magic,” said Punch.
“What’s in those crates the demons are stealing?” I asked them.
“Nectar,” Devlin told me. “This is one of the gods’ biggest Nectar storehouses. The demons are taking it all.”
“Nectar can kill a demon. They have no use for it. So why are they stealing it?” I wondered. “If the demons wanted to hurt the gods, why not destroy the Nectar instead?”
No one had an answer to that.
“Well, ok, then let’s go,” I said.
